


Hero in name only

by SpaceMalarkey



Category: The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Angst, Dead Hand, Fear, Gen, Guilt, Hallucinations, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Minor Violence, Shadow Temple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 21:49:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7138646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceMalarkey/pseuds/SpaceMalarkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hero of Time is seen only from a heroic standpoint. He is fearless, powerful, courageous. But no one knows the dangers he goes through, what it does to his mind. No one thinks that the Hero of Time is a person too, and should be spared certain truths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hero in name only

**Author's Note:**

> A small character study in which Link is traumatised by the Shadow Temple.

A thought comes to him from the very depths of his mind. A small part of him that isn’t consumed with fear and anxiety.   
_Maybe it would be best to not come back here. No one will know if I leave now.  
_ He swiftly pushes that thought back. Even as his instincts scream at him to turn around and leave this place to fend for itself, his heart cant take the mere indication that other people will suffer because of his incompetence. He has to focus, to get this task done and over with as quickly as possible. Every step fills his spirit with dread. His chest feels heavy and his heart turns to ice as that cursed well grows near. He can feel shivers playing his bones like a harp.   
Knees threaten to give out, but he has to do this. He knows there is no choice. There never was, not for him. Not for the Hero of Time.  
 _  
One step at a time,_ he thinks. _Just one foot in front of the other._ People passing him by are giving him strange looks. They don’t know about the horrors he has faced for them, what horrors he still faces for the sake of everyone around him. They will never know about the monsters that whisper in his ears at night. The demon that plagues his sleep. He prays they will never know, that they will keep on living blissfully unaware of the dungeon beneath their homes. 

Every step brings him closer to the entrance. Visions of his previous visit infects his mind like poison. Gruesome images he witnessed as a child. He remembers the skulls clearly. Their shape, color, texture. They were hard to ignore. It felt like they were watching him from their prison cells in the walls. Their empty eye sockets made it feel like he was staring into the void. The blood on the walls and floor had grounded him temporarily, made him think someone had stumbled in and that they were in trouble. A strong sense of protective duty washing over him. He needed to save innocents.   
He was wrong. Oh, so wrong and foolish.   
  
He finds himself staring deep into the gaping mouth of the well. It doesn’t feel like there is any presence within. _It reeks_ , he thinks. _Reeks of blood and rot._ It has been refilled. He is slightly startled that he didn’t notice. Calm water reflects his face, but all he can see are empty eyes staring back at him. The light that previously inhabited them are now gone. He looks hollow and afraid. He isn’t sure if he likes it. However it reminds him why he has come. To make sure that monstrosity isn’t hiding down there, just in case. Slowly he bends down and picks up a rock. He watches as his arm slowly rises above the water. He waits, imagining the demon in his inner mind.   
_Unnaturally long arms extended from the ground, covered in bruises and blood.  
A body rising from the dirt, pale and twisted. Made up from several bodies and shuffling ever closer.   
The eyes, hollow, and somehow filled with despair. Of anguish.   
A mouth opening, extending far beyond Hylian capability. The sounds emitting from its throat promised revenge, blood, death. Retribution.   
The searing pain in his lungs as those long arms grabbed hold of him, cutting off his air supply.   
The scream that escaped him as he finally struck the demon down with his small Kokiri sword. Pain, despair, fear. _  
He wonders if he was cursed by the demon after all, as he watches his hand slowly uncurl, and drop a small stone into the well. He watches it disappear, and then he waits. Waits for a bruised, pale body to appear in the depths. For those hands to strangle him once more. To finally end him so the spirits embodying it will know peace.   
It doesn’t come.   
Nothing happens. The wind is blowing and the sun reappears from behind heavy clouds. Yet he doesn’t feel warm as the loving rays caress his back. Maybe he will never feel warm again.  
    
With this he is sure. The demon is slain. It wont come back to kill more people, and that calms him slightly. His anxiety will never disappear, but at least these people are safe now.   
He turns around and with more confidence than he arrived with, he walks away from the well. Before he is completely out of earshot however, he can hear a grunt and the sound of splashing water. Curiosity takes hold of him and he turns around before he can stop himself.   
By the well stands a girl, drinking deeply from a bucket she has filled. She comments on the water tasting especially refreshing today, but all he can see between her lips is rotted flesh and blood. He wonders if they knew. If he is actually doing the bidding of demons and not the goddesses. If the so called evil forces were the true heralds of the gods, bringing justice to this land with such a bloody and greedy past.   
  
_He wonders if anyone will save him, once this is all over. If he is even worth it._


End file.
